Why'd You Only Love Me When You're Drunk?
by Malikah
Summary: "Can you take off your shirt?" Darcy asked. "I'd rather you do it, darling…" he murmured, his cocky grin in place as he raised his arms over his head. / Oneshot / Darcy/Loki / inspired by Arctic Monkeys' "Why'd you only call me when you're high" / Enjoy! :)


_Hello, there! Another oneshot, this time inspired by Arctic Monkeys' __**Why'd you only call me when you're high.**_

_Hope you enjoy it! :)_

**Disclaimer:** Nada. Nothing. Niente. Nichts. :(

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**Why'd you only love me when you're drunk?**

_Words: 4500_

Darcy squirmed in her sleep, a nightmare plaguing the young woman, making stifled groans and sobs escape her throat repeatedly while her fingers were digging into the comforter and she laid in the fetal position, her long, dark hair splayed all around her head like a black halo. Her lips were trembling, muttered words were heard from time to time, spoken apparently without coherent relation, as her small frame was being shaken and she struggled and writhed in between the warm sheets, in which her legs were tangled. Her breathing became ragged, sweat appeared on her brow and she threw herself from one side of the bed to the other, her hands instinctively reaching out, looking for the comforting warmth of another's touch, but she came away empty-handed. With a great inhale, she sat up all of a sudden, eyes wide in fear and heart beating rapidly, adrenaline rushing through her veins as she slowly realized that everything had been but a mere dream, a nightmare, nothing more. She held a hand against her heaving chest, before she let her head fall into her open palm, as the aftershocks ran through her body and her troubled mind processed her nightmare. It has been one of these ridiculous childhood fears, in which one was going home alone during the night and suddenly, you hear steps behind you, increasing in speed similar to yourself, while you scream and shout, yet nobody hears you. It was an absurd fear, yet a fear nonetheless. Unable to go back to sleep now, she decided to do the one thing that always helped her after having a nightmare. She stood from the bed, her tank top was sticking to her skin as it rode up over her belly, and she pulled it down while she slipped into her Spongebob-slippers, before she made her way into the kitchen. Her fear had evaporated and she was exhausted, yet she knew that should she go to bed, she would only roll around for the next hour, before she would have to do something to distract her thoughts. She shuffled into her kitchen, hand raised to cover her mouth while she yawned whole-heartedly, the other reaching out for the light switch as she heard the shrilling sound of her phone from the living room. She flinched and a shiver ran down her spine, her head started to tingle and goose bumps covered her skin. It was three in the morning – who the hell was calling her this late? She hurried towards the phone; it could be an emergency after all. She looked at the dial and read four letters that made her sigh.

"Whaddup?" she gritted – she was no morning person after all.

"Daaaarceeey!" the voice boomed over the speaker and she cringed, holding the phone away from her ear.

"Did you get yourself drunk again, idiot?" she hissed, pressing her fingers against her temple in exasperation.

"Naah, Darce, 'm as sober as ever!" his voice slurred and she had to stifle a chuckle.

"Stop lying, dude, you're soo hammered!"

"Hammer? Something happnd to Mjo-Mjolnrr?" he sounded preoccupied, screaming into the phone as if he was going mad.

Darcy laughed out loud. "Thor, did you have any particular reason for calling me on this fine morning or did you just miss me?"

"L-Loki…" he began and she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"What about him?" she asked, resigned. "Do I have to pick him up from some kind of gutter? Cause you know, he still owes me for last time…"

"Naah, he's-" _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Darcy flinched again, her eyes widened and her heart started pounding, while somebody else was pounding on her door. She narrowed her eyes, which were glued to the wooden door as the person hit it anew. "Thor?"

"Darce, Loki's-"

"Sorry, dude, gotta hang up. If I don't call back in ten minutes, I'm dead. Please play "Heart of Courage" at my funeral, it'll be like in the movies, ya know? 'Kay, gotta go, bye!" she hissed into the speaker and crossed the room, grabbing the baseball bat that her dad had handed down to her – yes, a freaking baseball bat, thank you very much, dad Lewis! – as she stepped closer to the door. The banging had subsided and she lowered the bat, inching closer towards the door until she was able to look through the peephole. The corridor was drowned in darkness, she could make out neither shapes nor shadows. Slowly, she backed away, watching the door cautiously, waiting for anything to happen, but it remained silent. She breathed out and put the bat back where it belonged, shuffling back to the phone to call Thor as all of a sudden, the banging against her door started anew, startling her enough for her to give a high-pitched shriek, before she covered her mouth in fear. Her eyes darted towards the door as she heard a dull thud right outside of it. Building up her courage, she straightened her spine and walked towards the door. She looked through the peephole and once again she saw mere darkness. She knew it was the stupidest thing to do, but she did it nevertheless. Tentatively, she reached out for the door handle and pushed it down, opening the door just slightly so she could peek out, but suddenly, it was all but pushed open and Darcy had to jump back as a person landed in her doorway.

"Loki!?" she screeched as she recognized the man who had been sitting with his back against her door and now laid in her doorway, his eyes fluttering, scratches covering his face and his hair all messed up, while he tried to sit up. "What the hell…?"

"Dar?" He whispered with his hoarse voice and despite his obvious intoxication, his voice made tingles run down her spine as he murmured her nickname.

"Dude, what've you gotten yourself into again?" she murmured, crouching beside him to help him stand up, examining the wounds on his face – one has split his lip, the other his eyebrow. She sighed. Loki has always been a troublemaker – ever since he came back to earth without the intent to rule it – since most of his magic has been stripped of him – he had made more trouble than he had done good. Not a month passed without him getting in some kind of trouble, be it terrorizing people after having drunk so much that he was wasted, or getting into a fight just for the hell of it. Tonight, it obviously was a drunken brawl – how typical.

"The other jerk looks worse." Loki hissed, a malicious grin stretching his injured lips while he stood up on shaky legs, one arm draped around Darcy's shoulder while hers was wrapped around his waist.

"Oh, shut it and move that Asgardian arse of yours!" she hissed, his body weighing down on her, as she kicked the door shut behind them and steadied her guest as best as she could. "What the fuck are you even doin' here?"

"Wanted to see you, Dar." He murmured, giving her a cocky grin while he took cautious steps as she led him to the guestroom of her apartment. She'd been making good money since she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. with Jane and she could afford this small but comfortable apartment on the outskirts of the city. There were times when she felt lonely without Jane or Eric, and here was no place as peaceful as the roof they'd been always sitting on in New Mexico, admiring the stars which you could not discern between the layers of smog. And yet she was happy to be able to live on her own, being independent and able to do everything she wanted felt so frickin' good. Unless, of course, somebody like Loki came barging in on 3 o'clock in the morning to disrupt her peaceful sleep. Let's just put aside the fact that her sleep has been nowhere near peaceful, of course. But now she wasn't even able to shimmy back under her covers, the God of Mischief couldn't be left in this state of intoxication all alone in her apartment – who knew what kind of ideas his blurred mind would conjure up?

"Yeah, sure, whatever." She huffed, dragging him through the door of the guestroom and to the attached bathroom, urging him to sit down on the edge of the tub. The bathroom wasn't too big, so when he sat on the edge, his knee still brushed her leg as she leaned up to the cabinet over the sink, where she found the first aid kit. She put it on the toilet seat and rummaged through it. Finding the alcohol, she took a cotton pad and drenched it in alcohol, before she turned to the intoxicated God.

"Do you have any wounds except of those on your face?" she asked, taking a step closer so that his knees nudged her legs.

"Don't know, Dar…" he murmured, his hand reaching out for her but she battered it away with an annoyed expression.

"Unbelievable." She grumbled, putting the soaked cotton pad aside. "Can you take off your shirt?"

"I'd rather you do it, darling…" he murmured, his cocky grin in place as he raised his arms over his head. Darcy didn't want to notice it, but the muscles in his arms constricted and were alluringly defined as she let her gaze wander over his upper body. She sighed and took a step closer, intent on not letting herself be deterred from tending to his wound. But it was so hard to remain concentrated as she stood between his parted legs, his jeans-clad thighs brushing hers, while his gaze remained glued to somewhere south of her face. She couldn't really blame him. After all, she was bending over so she could grasp the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. She gave him a sharp glance as he absent-mindedly licked his lips and she hurried to pull the shirt off of him. Once she did, she took three steps back hastily, watching him with cautious eyes, as she could not be sure whether he could sit up straight or would possibly tumble to the floor… or into the tub – which would be incredibly amusing. She scolded herself as she put his shirt into the sink, eying his defined chest and abs, looking for any kind of wound but she only found some black and blue marks on his side, nothing to worry about. She took a deep breath and closed the distance between them, intent on not making eye contact because she knew that his deep pools of green would mesmerize her and she would drown in them, just like she always did.

Taking the cotton pad, she reached for his chin, tilting it up so she could see the damage in the bright light filling the bathroom. She made the mistake of looking into his eyes as her gaze drifted from his split eyebrow downwards and she froze as the dilated pupils captured her gaze, filled with something she could barely describe.

Inhaling a shaky breath, she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on her task. "Alright, let's do this, so I can finally go back to sleep." She murmured, her hand slowly descending onto his face before he shrank back.

"What're ya doin', Dar?" he asked confused, his voice slurred.

"Disinfecting your wounds, idiot." She clicked her tongue and reached for his chin again but he grasped her wrist with incredible precision considering his state of alcoholization. "What the-?"

"I don't need that, Dar… Imma God, ya know? It'll be healed in no time…" he slurred, his bright eyes focused on hers, which she rolled.

"Sure I do, honey." she purred, a fake smile stretching her lips as she wrenched her hand out of his grasp. "And I'm convinced that the alcohol would sting on your still open wound, right?"

He nodded and she had to stifle a laugh – intoxicated Loki was the only Loki who would so openly admit that he could be hurt by something as meager as alcohol on an open cut.

"Well…" she gave him a smile, showing off her sparkling white teeth as she bend down a bit, leveling her eyes with his, while her hand stroked his cheek soothingly, before an evil glint entered her eyes. "Too bad that you woke me up, _Mr. Imma-God_, 'cause I'm not exactly a morning person, honey."

With that, she lowered the alcohol-soaked pad to his eyebrow and he jerked back and hissed, but her hand, which has wandered to the back of his head, had a firm grip on him and she managed to keep him in place, while she disinfected the wound.

"Mewling quim!" he hissed and a grin stretched her lips at the familiar insult. He'd been calling her that since he came to earth and got acquainted with her, now it was nothing more than a harmless taunt.

"Always at your service." She sing-songed, teasing smile spreading her lips as she moved the cotton to the cut on his lip. "And don't you dare start whining, 'cause that lip has had plenty of alcohol tonight, and this kind actually helps instead of reducing your number of brain cells."

She pressed the cotton pad against his lip and he growled and laid his hands on her hips, dragging her closer suddenly, so she nearly lost her footing. "What the-"

"Ya know, Dar" he interrupted her, his moving lips making her unable to keep the cotton pressed against it. "There's somethin' my lips ain't had yet…"

She gave a short laugh. "Let me guess…" she began but he beat her to it.

"You, Dar."

She halted in her movement as his blazing eyes caught hers in a fierce battle before her eyes shifted to his lips involuntarily as his tongue darted out, brushing his lower lip, avoiding the soaked cotton pad. The movement was undoubtedly inspiring and arousing, a million images of what she could be doing with these lips invaded her mind as she watched the retreating tongue and that sinister smirk stretching his inviting lips and she had to shake the bad, bad thoughts off her mind physically, while her eyes focused on the pad instead of his lips and she took a deep breath so that her voice wouldn't sound too hoarse.

"Oh shush, will you! I'm trying to tend to your wounds and you're intoxicated, anyways. I won't take advantage of you." She winked and grinned down at him while the hand at the back of his neck tugged playfully on his hair.

"Where's ya nurse's outfit, then, Dar?" he inquired teasingly, his lips still turned into a smirk and his hands still on her hips while his fingertips brushed the skin between the hem of her shirt and her shorts lightly. "And ya wouldn't be takin' advan… advantage of me, 'cause I want it."

"Loki, you're incapable of making reasonable decisions in your condition. I'm quite sure you'd say the same thing to whatever hooker you usually seek after you hit the bottle." She sighed and, satisfied with her work, let go of Loki's head and took the pad away from his split lip, her thumb brushing the skin on his cheek lightly as she saw a bruise forming there.

"I wouldn't." he pointed out, his fingers pressing into her skin until she yelped silently. "I mean I don't. I don't seek no hookers, Dar, you the only woman fo' me."

She laughed silently. "Well, that would've sounded sweet if you weren't about to pass out in my bathroom at three o'clock in the morning after you got wasted and beaten up." She commented sarcastically and turned away, throwing the cotton pad into the bin. She was about to pack the first aid kit away as she felt his hands on her waist again, pulling her into him, her back pressed against his chest.

"Loki." She urged slowly, as if she were talking to a small child. "What in the hell are you doing?"

"You mine, Darcy." He grunted against her revealed shoulder, lips ghosting over the expanse of soft skin of her neck. His arms wrapped around her abdomen as he pressed his face into her shoulder. "I love you."

Darcy shook with uncontrollable yet soundless laughter at his words, unable to react differently than to deny his words immediately. "Yeah, sure, _Mr. That's-definitely-the-last-shot-tonight._ At least have the decency to wait with that kind of admission for the _real_ one and only and not the one and only that'd ever consider taking you in after a night of drinking and fighting, honey."

She turned in his grasp and was met with emerald fire, looking down at her as he towered over her smaller body. His eyes seemed to be surprisingly clear, but she could literally taste the alcohol he indulged in on her own tongue. However, something akin to hurt flashed briefly through these deep green orbs.

"I'm honest, Dar. You're my love." His hands grasped her waist as his lips were slowly inching closer towards hers, eyes locked on hers, green orbs shining with intent and desire. Darcy acted fast, raising her hands so she cupped his face in her open palms, stopping him half-way. She wasn't going to be just some girl he makes out with while drunk before he tosses her away, not even remembering anything he did. She stared into his eyes with a pointed look, trying to deliver her silent message through the alcohol-induced haze in his mind.

She sighed, somewhat defeated as he didn't back off, apparently not getting the gist. "Your love? Then why'd you only ever call me that when you're drunk, Loki?" she prodded, eyes flickering between his as she bit down on her lip. She was exhausted, her nightmare had been bad but having to grapple with a drunken Loki who confessed his love for her just topped it all off. All she wanted now was her bed and sleep, but it wasn't easy to ward off the God of Mischief. Especially not when his eyes were burning through her, igniting an unwelcome flame inside of her with this mischievous glint that promised evil. Figuratively speaking, of course. The blazing intent in his hooded eyes only intensified as he pushed her back slowly, until her lower back met the sink and she braced her hands on the rim. "What the-"

"I'll prove it to you." He merely stated, grabbing her hands and pinning them to the sink as he darted down again, his lips hovering inches apart from hers and there was no time in which she desired to have her taser within reach more than now. She struggled in his grasp, unable to remain unaffected by his proximity and touch, which both were sending shivers down her spine, yet as he bend down, she turned her head, so that his lips were met with her cheek instead of her lips. She heard his angry growl as he let go of one of her hands and grabbed her chin roughly, but the action was incredibly arousing as he dominated her. She thought that he was going to take advantage of her just now and she closed her eyes in surrender, fully comprehending that there was no way she could compete with a God, yet when nothing happened and she didn't feel his lips on hers, she opened her eyes and was surprised as they were met with desire but also sincere apology. "I… Darcy-"

The way his Adam's apple moved as he gulped, the way his eyes widened, the way his lips parted so that his tongue could flicker out and dampen his lips, the way his thumb stroked her cheekbone, the way his body was pressed against hers, the way he towered over her and she had to tilt her head back to look into these blazing eyes, the way he smelled of mint and cedar – fresh and manly, all of this fascinated and intrigued her and she couldn't tear her gaze away from him. She raised her free hand and cupped his cheek tenderly, her eyes flickering between his. "Loki…" she breathed and in the next instant, his lips were pressed against hers in the ghost of a touch.

He cupped her face in his hands, holding her as if she were something precious as his lips moved slowly, leisurely, not rushing. The kiss was soft and tender, a kiss right out of a fairytale, just the feeling of his wound against her soft lips made the whole thing seem less surreal and she gave into him, not able to hold herself back any longer. _Just this one kiss_. She stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her fingers in his silky strands, eyes falling shut as she moved her lips against his. She felt him smile at her reaction but he didn't push her further, reveling in the mere feeling of their joined lips. She pressed her body against his and he let go of her face, wrapping an arm around her waist instead, where he held her secure against his chest. She moaned lowly, barely audible as she took his lower lip between hers, slowly massaging the injured lip before she reclined back without haste, pulling him with her. She reopened her eyes as soon as she released his lip and was met with his intense gaze, which made her shiver. She had never been kissed this way before, so full of actual feelings, instead of mere haste and desire of satisfaction. It was sweet and almost… loving. She shook her head slightly, letting a hand wander back to his cheek where she stroked the skin over his cheekbone.

"Alright, man of ice, you proved it. Now let's get you to bed, okay?" she pleaded, a smile stretching her lips, while sadness and even a bit of regret mingled in the depths of her eyes. He would have forgotten the kiss by tomorrow morning while she would remember it for weeks. Or months. Or maybe even forever. Yeah, probably the latter. She sighed and took Loki by his hand, dragging him out of the bathroom before she led him to the bed, where he laid down without resistance. She drew the blanket over his form and noticed that he was already nearly asleep. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she pressed them against his in a last, lingering kiss, which would have to suffice until next time that he got himself drunk and started to confess his love. Don't get it wrong, confessing his love to her had been a first this night and he didn't usually do it, so it did shock her, but she didn't believe that he would remember anything. Slowly, she made her way to the door, turning the lights out and turning her back on the man she'd been in love with for months. She let her fingers trail over her still tingling lips, before she pulled the door shut behind her.

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Yawning, she stretched in her bed, her bones cracking with her movements, while all she wanted to do was lay back down and sleep for, like another twenty hours. Last night had been incredibly exhausting for her and to be honest, she had no desire to confront the God of Mischief right now. Or like… ever. But there was still the chance that he woke up already and left after he realized what he did. If he even remembered, that is. She sighed, only one way to find out.

She pulled on some comfortable clothes, brushed her hair and slowly made her way out of the room, through the corridor and into the kitchen, which was adjoined with the living room. To her utter astonishment, there he sat, newspaper in hand and a cup of tea in the other, while a big breakfast had been set up on the table. Her eyes were about to fall out of her sockets at the sight. Her stomach grumbled and she murmured a light "What the hell?", drawing the God's attention to herself. He raised his head and a wide smile spread his lips as he let his gaze wander over her body.

"Morning, Love." He greeted her and she was shocked silent. _Love!?_

"Wha-What is this?" she asked incredulously, hands waving, indicating the table and Loki merely chuckled.

"It's called breakfast and you usually eat it in the morning. Since you slept in, it would be rather considered a brunch now." He winked and her eyes were wide as saucers. He chuckled again and beckoned her to come to the table and eat. Shrugging, she did just that, since she hadn't had this kind of breakfast for months now. She knew that Loki was watching her and she was just slightly confused about the situation. Okay, that's an understatement. Helping Loki out after he got drunk was reasonable and logical. Having him prepare her breakfast after a night in which they kissed and he declared his love for her AND having him call her "Love" instead of "Dar" was just slightly over the top and – admittedly – frightening. She had no clue whether he remembered a single thing he said last night, it may all have vanished just as his wounds, that now weren't present anymore, his lip was healed as was his eyebrow. But why would he do all of that, then? To show his gratitude? Probably yes. He still owed her for the last time, after all. Gratitude and politeness, that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Satisfied with that, she dug into the breakfast, ignoring his steady stare. They remained in silence for quite some time before he folded the newspaper and cleared his throat, drawing her attention to him.

"As much as I enjoy your company" he began, his lips turned into a smirk. "I'm afraid I'll have to take my leave now." He explained and she gulped the piece of bread down, nodding in understanding.

He stood up, making his way around the table until he stood next to her. She turned in her seat and eyed him expectantly. Yet she never would've expected what happened next. He leaned down, burying his hand in her hair and kissed her long and slow, tenderly and affectionately.

He let go of her at last and smiled, stroking her cheek. "I will see you tonight, love. After all, I still owe you for last time, huh?"

She stared at him with wide eyes as he pecked her again and turned to go. "Oh, and by the way. You will have to explain what this "courageous heart" is, that Thor was speaking about after he called repeatedly, asking if you were dead…" he shook his head. "Weird oaf." He muttered before he disappeared into thin air.

Weird oaf, indeed.

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_Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it and have the time, please leave me if review! :I_

_Oh, and another __**Disclaimer: **__I do not own "Heart of Courage" ;)_

_Take care! :)_


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